


Mordred's Blood

by jelazakazone



Series: Magic revealed [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2012, M/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/jelazakazone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mordred has an insidious influence on Merlin.  Arthur dies at Camlann.</p><p>Teaser: <i>Mordred’s blood sang as it coursed through his veins. He felt something primal awakening as he called out with his mind “Help! Help me! Please.”</i></p><p> <a href="http://jelazakazone.livejournal.com/594570.html">Find on LJ here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This all started when I thought to myself, while watching The Beginning of the End, “what would happen if Mordred could influence Merlin the way Merlin can influence the dragon?” I didn’t want it to be that strong though. I thought this was going to be a short little story that would just, you know, la la la, answer the question quickly. Joke was on me. The Twrch Trwyth shows up here and I’ve completely remixed that legend. Also, for those of you used to my fluffy fics, this isn’t one of them. Thanks so much to neyah444 for invaluable cheerleading and encouragement and beta help. Thanks also to castmeaway for beta help.

  
Mordred’s blood sang as it coursed through his veins. He felt something primal awakening as he called out with his mind “Help! Help me! Please.”  
  
Talking with his mind was an ingrained habit for Mordred by the time he found himself in trouble in the castle courtyard. This feeling in his veins was new and he thought, at first, that it was because of the pain and incipient infection, but the feeling began to grow, like great leathery wings were unfurling behind him.  
  
Intuitively he added a little push as he called with his mind again, “Please. You have to help me.” Desperate for a response, he pushed a little harder as he said, “Help me.” He waited a breath before adding, “They’re searching for me.”  
  
When Merlin finally responded, “Why are they after you?,” relief washed over Mordred. He knew he would escape.  
  
“They are going to kill me,” he replied, putting the capstone on his construction.  
  
Merlin ran across the courtyard and silently told the boy, “This way. Run. Run!”  
  
~~~~  
  
Mordred snuggled in Arthur’s arms, wondering where Merlin was. He’d promised to help. Again, that feeling sang in his veins, power ancient and earthy. He reached out to Merlin with it.  
  
“I'm scared, Emrys. They will kill me. Don't do this. Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me. I thought you were my friend. We're the same. I don't want to die. Emrys! Emrys! Emrys!”  
  
Merlin had covered his ears, first with hands, then with his pillow, to drown out the voice in his head. It was so insistent and _compelling_ , just as the pleas had been in the courtyard only a day or two ago. Merlin had resolved to stay out of his escape, knowing that Mordred was involved in Arthur’s doom, but he could not ignore the appeal to his _friendship_. Merlin squirmed in his bed and at the third “Emrys,” he gave up resisting the desire to run and help. _Arthur_ was helping the boy, after all. What was the sense in fighting that? It was his duty to help Arthur.  
  
As Arthur placed the boy on the horse in front of him, Mordred said simply, “Goodbye, Emrys. I know that someday we will meet again.”  
  
Merlin shivered, relieved that he was leaving and yet anxious, feeling that this boy was not done with him.


	2. Chapter 1

Merlin tossed and turned in bed, tangling himself in the bedclothes and uncovering Arthur in the process until Arthur finally shook him.   
  
“Merlin, what is wrong with you? You are thrashing like a fish out of water.”  
  
“Uh,” came a groggy reply. “What?” He rubbed his eyes and then ran his fingers through his hair as though it would comb his mind in place too.  
  
“You normally sleep like a log. You are moving around so much, the people in the room below us are probably wondering what the hell is going on in here. Or rather, they are probably getting completely the wrong idea of what the hell is going on in here.”  
  
“Oh. Hmmm. I was having a, um, bad dream.”  
  
A nearly full moon lit the chamber. As Merlin awakened more fully, Arthur watched the expressions flow across his face, like clouds crossing the sky on a windless day. Arthur patted the man’s back, soothing and encouraging.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Oh, well, it was just a dream, thank the gods. Nothing to worry about,” Merlin grinned.   
  
“Ok, then. Go back to sleep. We need to get up in a couple hours to prepare for the big hunt.”  
  
Merlin grumbled, but did not openly complain. They lay back down, curled around each other, and slept until thin grey streaks touched the darkness of the room. When the hounds bayed, Arthur started from his sleep and sprang from the bed, ready to confront the enemy. Merlin, already awake, laughed as the king sorted himself out.  
  
They could hear the clanging of pots and pans and clamor of voices before they reached the fragrant, steamy kitchen. Parcels, laid out on the counters, were being bustled off to the appropriate knights. The cook noticed Arthur and her face blanched.  
  
“Sire, we weren’t expecting you.” She bowed. “I ‘ope everything is to your liking.”  
  
“I’m sure it’s fine, Mary. Carry on.” Arthur waved a hand in the air. “I was just looking for Gwaine and Percival. Have you seen them?”  
  
“Oh, yes, Sire. They just left, moments ago. Went to the stables, did they. You’ll find them there, to be sure.” She bobbed.  
  
“Thank you, Mary.” Arthur turned, Merlin followed and they went down to the stables.  
  
All the knights were to be found there, in fact. Arthur’s smile deepened. There was nothing he loved more than a good hunt and this one would be several days in the making. There would be camping and tracking and cook fires.  
  
The servants had brought the remaining parcels down and the sun was now just over the horizon. Arthur sat astride his horse looking at his knights and Merlin.  
  
“A few months ago, our land was in turmoil, but peace reigns again. Under my father, there was a certain kind of peace. Safety was not assured for all. My father hated and feared magic users, but I have learned that not all magic users are evil. Now, everyone in Camelot is protected, including those who would have been shunned, exiled, and even executed are now free to live productive, happy lives.”  
  
“I am your king, yes, but I could never have achieved this without you. To celebrate, I have planned this hunt. It will challenge your skills and keep you sharp. Our peace will only be maintained if my knights are the sharpest in the land.”  
  
Arthur turned his horse and lead the charge out of the courtyard, hoofbeats on cobblestones competing with the cheers of the flag waving crowd.  
  
When the sun was high overhead, Arthur signaled to the group that it was time for a break. They had not been riding hard, but the weather was warm and they wanted the horses fresh for this trip. There was no need to strain the horses; they may as well enjoy the excursion too.  
  
Men munched on provisions from the royal kitchen while chattering about local news and castle gossip. Arthur sat a little apart from the men on his own blanket with Merlin. He kept running through his mental checklist, making sure everything was in order.  
  
“Merlin, did you...”  
  
“Yes, Arthur. That’s taken care of.”  
  
“Well, what about the...”  
  
“That too.”  
  
“And..”  
  
“Sire. Really. We went over your list three times and then Leon and Leon went over it too. It’s all covered. You should relax too. Look how happy the knights are. This was a good plan.”  
  
“Yeah. You’re right. What could possibly go wrong?”  
  
Appetites sated, the knights packed up the remains of their meal and whistled for their horses. Refreshed, they continued along the big road, kicking up large clouds of dust and enveloping themselves in a balloon of noise.  
  
As the light waned, Arthur called a halt and the party spread out to find camping spots. Merlin got to work on the tent he and Arthur would share, enabling Arthur to walk around and check in with the men. A few words here and there, a hand on a shoulder, a punch to an arm, a sympathetic nod, did much to improve morale, not that there was any need this evening, but the habit was ingrained and one worth doing even in times of peace according to Arthur.  
  
When he finally got back to their tent, he noticed that Merlin seemed to have some new scratches and a bruise was forming on his cheek, but Arthur didn’t say anything. He gently caressed the tender cheek and gave Merlin a look.  
  
Yawning, Arthur said, “It’s time to turn in, Merlin. We’ve a couple long days ahead of us and today wasn’t exactly restful.”  
  
“Lead the way. I know you like to go first,” Merlin smiled, holding the tent flap open.  
  
That night, Merlin tossed and turned, again.   
  
“Merlin,” Arthur hissed at him, trying not to wake the other knights. “Merlin,” he said, shaking him.  
  
“Mph?”  
  
“You’re doing it again. Thrashing. What the hell is going on?”  
  
“Mmmm, recurrent dream?”  
  
“Are you sure? I know that something weighing on a man’s conscience can disrupt sleep.”  
  
“No, Arthur. I promise. Nothing,” Merlin said a little defensively. “Come here. Let me reassure you.”  
  
“What? Not here, with the men all around us!”  
  
Merlin snickered a little, but snaked an arm around Arthur and snugged him into his chest. Arthur fell asleep practically instantly, unaware that Merlin lay awake for a long time.


	3. Chapter 2

In the morning, Merlin not only had an impressive bruise on his cheek, but now he had dark circles under his eyes too. After breakfast Arthur pulled him aside before they continued their journey.  
  
“I’m worried about you, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin looked at him, wide eyed.  
  
Arthur stared hard.  
  
Merlin put his hands up, pleading innocence.  
  
“Ok, ok. I can see I’m not going to get any answers out of you.”  
  
The second day was much the same as the first. They rode, broke for lunch, rode some more and then stopped to camp for the night. The major difference was that worry gnawed at Arthur’s gut: something was wrong with Merlin. He kept looking back, to check that Merlin was still upright on his horse and not sleeping on the side of the road in the undergrowth. He had been known to fall asleep while riding, much to Arthur’s disbelief.  
  
As Merlin fixed dinner, Arthur walked around camp again.   
  
“Merlin, this stew is outstanding,” Leon said. A chorus of deep voices agreed with him.  
  
“In fact, you’ve been working so hard, why don’t you just go to bed and we’ll clean up tonight,” Gwaine offered.  
  
Merlin looked first at Arthur, who nodded, and then said, “Thank you, Gwaine. I am rather more tired than usual.”  
  
“Go ahead, Merlin. I’ll be there shortly.”  
  
As the men cleaned up, Arthur talked with the knights and hoped his conversation was disguised by the banging of pots and dishes and the whickering of the horses.  
  
“I’m concerned about Merlin. He’s not sleeping well. I feel like something is wrong. Please, keep your eyes and ears peeled. You are the best of Camelot. There is nowhere safer than with us, but still, I can’t put this feeling to rest.”  
  
Arthur did not tell the men about the queasy feeling he’d had that had washed over him when he’d woken because of Merlin’s thrashing, nor the prickling on his skin that accompanied it.  
  
Gwaine said, “He has seemed cranky and out of sorts.”  
  
“Now that you mention it, yeah, he’s seemed a little distracted lately too. I’ve noticed him staring off into the distance a lot lately,” Leon added.  
  
When he got back to the tent, Merlin was already sleeping, although it appeared to be a light sleep because Arthur noticed that he was muttering and the words were unfamiliar at that. He resolved to keep himself in _hunter_ mode, feeling that was the best way to protect Merlin from whatever unseen forces were nibbling at him.  
  
Chirping birds woke Arthur from a sound sleep. He started, alarmed that he’d slept so deeply, but Merlin was right there, next to him, sleeping peacefully. The growing light stirred the knights into action and, as their muffled voices reached inside the tent, Merlin stretched and awoke.   
  
Arthur, head propped on a hand, smiled down at Merlin, relief lifting his heart. Merlin smiled up at him.  
  
“You slept well,” Arthur said.  
  
“Mmmmm, I did,” Merlin agreed.  
  
“Excellent, then you will be ready for our long day.”  
  
Although it was Merlin’s habit to rise long before Arthur to ready food and equipment, today they rose together, both with their own tasks to attend to.  
  
The whole camp was busy with eating and washing up and packing as the animals awoke with them. The sky was full of clouds, a possible storm imminent. They did not linger, but got on their horses and headed out, talking about what beast Arthur had in mind for them to hunt on the morrow.  
  
As they continued their journey on the wide road, two or three abreast, spirits remained high despite the darkening sky and even flashes of light on the horizon.  
  
“Arthur, aren’t you worried about the coming storm?”  
  
“Oh, no. We’ve got plenty of time to get to our camp before it hits us.”  
  
“But, this one seems to be gathering very fast.”  
  
Arthur looked around, licked a finger and held it up.   
  
“Well, Merlin, it is moving fast, but the wind is moving across our path and forward. I really don’t think it will be a concern.”  
  
Arthur was not surprised when Merlin subsided. He knew that Merlin would not argue incessantly, especially in front of his men. So, they continued in silence. What did surprise Arthur was his own discomfort with the silence. One of the characteristics he treasured about their relationship was how easy it was to be with Merlin without talking.   
  
Just before he thought it was time to call a break for lunch, Arthur finally broke their uneasy silence.  
  
“Merlin, what ails you?”  
  
“Er, what?” Merlin seemed startled, as if he’d been having a conversation, or even an argument, with himself.  
  
“Merlin, something is wrong. You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”  
  
“Uh. No.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“Well, not now. Isn’t it time for lunch?” Merlin rubbed his stomach and winced as though he hadn’t been eating just as well as his king.  
  
Arthur sighed, noticing his own discomfort and looked up to the sky. The clouds were gathering and darkening overhead, but still fairly far away. He called a halt to the party.   
  
Instead of making his usual rounds with the men during the meal, Arthur stuck right next to Merlin. Something was fishy, even if he couldn’t figure it out and Merlin wasn’t telling him.  
  
Just as they were getting ready to pack up, a single rider appeared on the road. He slowed as he approached and Arthur noticed that he had on a druid’s green cloak. When the man reached the party, he stopped and dismounted, throwing his hood back, revealing thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes.  
  
“Good afternoon, traveler” Arthur called to him, standing in one fluid motion.  
  
“Hello,” he replied simply.


	4. Chapter 3

Arthur looked at Merlin, about to chastise him for not greeting the stranger when he noticed the look on Merlin’s face. There was a definite look of recognition and something, jealousy perhaps, flashed in Merlin’s eyes, but it disappeared so quickly, Arthur questioned that he’d ever seen it.  
  
Arthur turned to look at the young man and then realized who it was.  
  
“Mordred!,” he called as he strode towards the young man to clap him on the shoulder. “Well met. I’ve thought of you over the years since you were in Camelot and wondered what had happened to you. Where are you headed? Perhaps you can join us and let me know that my work was well done?”  
  
Mordred beamed as he drew the king into a warm embrace that surprised Arthur, but which he returned. “It would be my pleasure, Sire. I was just headed home from an errand, but I’m not needed for several days. I see you are on a hunting expedition? You won’t mind if I don’t actually hunt, will you?”  
  
Arthur gave a hearty laugh. “Not at all. Actually, your timing is perfect, for I have need of your skills. I will tell you about that later. We look forward to your company on the road and for the next couple days. Come, we were just getting ready to pack up and head out again.”  
  
Mordred gave him a look that Arthur couldn’t really interpret, so he said, “Oh, are you hungry? Do you have need of a rest before we start?”  
  
Mordred waved a hand and reassured him, “No. I’m fine. I can eat on horseback.”  
  
Arthur looked around and noticed that the sky was clearing; the storm had moved out. Chipper, he turned to Merlin, finally, to find him glowering. Confused, he said in a low voice, “Merlin, why the face? I know you recognize Mordred. You must be pleased to see him now, looking so well.”  
  
Through gritted teeth, Merlin hissed, “This is going to be one of those moments where I tell you something isn't a good idea and you ignore me, isn't it?”  
  
“Merlin, what could possibly go wrong? This is Mordred, that sweet druid boy we rescued shortly after you came to Camelot.”  
  
“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about this.”  
  
Arthur chucked him on the shoulder. “Well, never mind that. I’m in charge. It will be fine. Besides, he will come in handy on our hunt.”  
  
Merlin raised his eyebrows at that. “Oh?”  
  
Arthur turned to the men and signaled that everyone should get back on their horses.  
  
“Come on, Merlin. Let’s get moving.”  
  
He took Merlin by the elbow and forcibly moved him from where he’d rooted himself, as if he weren’t going to go because Mordred had shown up. Arthur’s touch seemed to motivate him though, and soon they were back on the road, only now Arthur was riding next to Mordred and Merlin had fallen back in line to ride next to Gwaine.  
  
Arthur chatted with Mordred, occasionally looking back at Merlin who continued to scowl every time Arthur caught his eye. Arthur could not for the life of him see what the problem was.  
  
“Mordred, you look well.”  
  
“Yes, Sire. Thank you.”  
  
“How are the druids? I’ve not seen any of your people for quite some time. I assumed that all was well.”  
  
“We prosper again, thanks to your Highness,” Mordred said with a slight bow.   
  
The conversation flagged, but the ensuing silence between them was not uncomfortable. What was uncomfortable were Merlin’s eyes, drilling holes in the back of his head. Arthur felt twitchy, knowing that Merlin was unhappy with the situation and that he knew that Arthur would not change his mind. The king sighed. His servant, no, his friend, his _lover_ , was a hard man to please at times. Arthur knew that Merlin had uncommonly good sense at the strangest times, but he really could not understand what the danger could be in having Mordred along. He would spend time reassuring Merlin properly tonight.  
  
After an hour or so of riding, Merlin eased his horse to the front of the line to ride next to Arthur. At first, Merlin was exceptionally close to Arthur, causing him to worry slightly. This made the riding a little crowded, but since they were not traveling at speed and all were experienced riders, it was merely something to make the journey a little more exciting.   
  
Arthur loved a good physical challenge and at first he thought that Merlin had come along for just that purpose, but when he gazed over at the man, his mouth was set in a grim line and his teeth were clenched. He sat rigid on his horse, looking straight ahead. Bright blue eyes were watery with tears.  
  
Arthur found this odd. They weren’t riding so fast that his eyes should be bothered by the wind. He looked around at the other men and found them relaxed and smiling, riding solo or two abreast. When he looked at Mordred, the other man had a focused look on his face, but he was relaxed. Arthur assumed it was just due to being a less experienced rider.  
  
He looked at Merlin again and this time saw that he was more relaxed. Arthur looked at Merlin pointedly and Merlin just shrugged. At that, Merlin fell back in line next to Elyan this time.  
  
Their journey had initially taken them through fields, but the trees began to come more frequently until the last leg put them in thickly forested land. The road, which had initially accommodated three abreast quite comfortably, thinned to allow only a single file line of riders.  
  
“Halt!,” Arthur called to the party as they realized that more light was filtering in through the leaves.  
  
“We have reached our camp destination,” he declared a little breathlessly. “Set up your tents and sleeping rolls for the night and then come back here. I will prepare you for the hunt.”  
  
The men chattered with excitement about what could be in store for them as they went about setting up.  
  
“Oi, Mordred,” someone called, “d’ya need help with your set up?”.  
  
Mordred looked around and replied, “Thank you. I am able to prepare for the night without your assistance.”  
  
Arthur was pleased that the knights were offering assistance without being goaded, but as he surveyed the camp, looking for Merlin, he realized the man was _helping Mordred_.  
  
He walked over to the pair of men in only a few strides and pulled on Merlin.   
  
“Merlin, what are you doing? You need to be setting up _our_ tent. Not _his_.”  
  
Merlin shook himself, as though waking from a dream and said, “Hunh? Oh, right. Of course, sire,” and left to prepare their tent and sleeping rolls.


	5. Chapter 4

Arthur called out, “As you finish, please collect a few pieces of firewood. We can talk over supper.”  
  
As the flames burned lower and bellies were filled, Arthur called out, “Knights of the Round Table, I have prepared this trip for you as a reward as well as a challenge.”  
  
The knights looked at him expectantly. Gwaine said, “Come on already, haven’t you teased us long enough?”  
  
Arthur chuckled and said, “Quite right, Gwaine. I have. The moment has come. I have not told you what we would be hunting because the surprise is half the fun.  
  
He looked around at the men assembled before him, assessing them. “You are all courageous and strong, the best in the land. You have made me proud on the battlefield, on previous hunts, and at the council table. Tomorrow, we will need to bring all our skills together to outwit this beast. I will need each and every one of you.” Arthur looked at Elyan, Percival, Leon, Leon, Gwaine, and the rest of the knights in turn before continuing.   
  
“We will be hunting the Twrch Trwyth, an enchanted boar.”  
  
A gasp rose from the assembly and then a great cheer. “Huzzah! Let’s get him!,” they roared with excitement. Arthur motioned for them to quiet down so he could continue talking.  
  
“As you know, the Pendragons have ruled this land for many years, in part because of our skill, but we cannot overlook the luck we’ve had as well. I had not known how we would be successful because, in addition to spears, swords, and arrows, we need a magic potion to defeat this boar and it must be made within hours of use or it becomes ineffective. Luck shone upon us when it brought Mordred onto our path. I have spoken with him and he is willing to make the potion we will need.”  
  
Arthur paused, letting the men absorb this piece of information before he continued.  
  
“The potion requires the hair of three men obtained in three different ways. I, of course, will contribute. Who else will step forward?”  
  
Leon stepped forward without hesitation and Gwaine stumbled into position next to him. Arthur was not sure if Gwaine’s misstep was due to being shoved or his penchant for drink. He smiled at the company.  
  
“Tomorrow morning we will rise when the first bird starts her song and mount. You must pack everything tonight that you will need for the hunt. We will return to the camp after we have successfully slain the beast. Plan enough food and water to last two days.  
  
“The boar’s nest is a half day’s ride from here. When we see the trampled vegetation, we will know it is time for Mordred to prepare the potion. We need shaved hair, combed hair, and cut hair. So, now that you know the plan, eat a good dinner and get to bed. We need to be well rested on the morrow. Sleep well, men.”  
  
With that, Arthur took a bowl, filled it with the stew Merlin had prepared for them, and handed it to the first man in line and so it went until everyone had dinner.  
  
Energy ran high in the camp that evening with talk of the boar and different strategies of attack that could be used. As the fire died down, the men began to wind down too.  
  
Arthur sought out Merlin whom he found behind their tent.  
  
“Hiding from someone?”  
  
Merlin started, as if he really were hiding from someone.  
  
“Uh, no. Not really. Just thinking about what is going to happen tomorrow.”  
  
Arthur decided to take this at face value and not push.  
  
“We’ll be fine. We’ve got everything we need to be successful now. I’m not worried. What could go wrong? No, Merlin, don’t say anything. You’re always the pessimist.”  
  
Merlin gave him a sceptical look, before saying, “Look, we just need to be prepared if something goes wrong. I’m just thinking.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, tactics is your strong suit. Ok, Merlin, I’ll leave you to it. But we need to get to sleep soon so we can be well rested for the hunt tomorrow.”  
  
Arthur went back around to the front of the tent, slightly puzzled at Merlin’s recent actions, but too tired and preoccupied to worry over them. He lay down in the sleeping roll and closed his eyes, thinking to just rest, but he woke when Merlin jostled him getting into the roll with him. Merlin put his arm around Arthur, drawing him close in to his chest, snuggling him in, and Arthur fell back into his hazy dreamworld.


	6. Chapter 5

In the morning Arthur awoke at the first chirp and felt well refreshed. Merlin had not thrashed in the night and he was looking much better as well. He turned in his lover’s arms and whispered, “Merlin, time to get up.”  
  
Merlin batted at his nose, like there was a fly on it, and continued snoring. Arthur gently blew on his ear, knowing how sensitive it was, and Merlin’s eyes flew open.   
  
“There we go. That’s better. Now, are you ready?”  
  
“Mmm, Arthur. There’s something I need to tell you, before you go out on this hunt.”  
  
“Oh? What?”  
  
At that moment, the camp was full of noise and Leon was yelling, “Merlin! Merlin! Come out. Quickly. You are needed.”  
  
Merlin gave Arthur a lingering look that he could not decipher before levering himself up and ducking out of the tent. Arthur sighed and went out to see what the commotion was.  
  
Several men were circled around something. Arthur approached to find Merlin kneeling on the ground next to someone. Next to Elyan, in fact!  
  
Arthur’s clenched at the sight of Elyan lying on the ground, eyes open, but unseeing. Arthur noticed that his chest still moved up and down. Realizing that the man still breathed, Arthur let out a sigh of relief, although he was still deeply concerned.  
  
“What’s the matter with him, Merlin?”  
  
Merlin looked up at Arthur, a concerned look on his face.  
  
“Um, I’m not sure.” He bit his lip.  
  
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”  
  
“Well, there is no sign of anything obviously wrong. There is no blood, no bruising, but he’s not responding either. He seems to be in some sort of a trance.”  
  
“Oookay. Well, as acting physician, what is our course of action here?”  
  
“We cannot spare anyone to stay with him in camp. We will need to tie him to his horse and hope he comes out of the catatonia.”  
  
Arthur pressed his hands to knees and stood up.   
  
“All right. Let’s get moving. The plan stands.”  
  
Arthur held a hand out to Merlin, helping him to stand. Merlin tangled lithe fingers in his curly dark mop, looking more frustrated than the situation seemed to warrant, before he turned in the bare dirt, marking a little circle, and went to the tent to collect what he needed for the hunt.  
  
Once mounted, everyone seemed comfortable, which Arthur had expected of the knights, but not so much Mordred. In fact, Mordred seemed more energetic today than he had yesterday. Arthur chalked that up to a good night’s rest and mentally went through his plans and checklist again, making sure that nothing had been forgotten.  
  
After the sun had been up for some time, they began to encounter small patches of trampled vegetation and Arthur felt his pace quicken. Excitement burned in his gut. He smiled; he loved the thrill of a good hunt and this promised to be the best. They continued on horseback until all Arthur could see was trampled understory.  
  
Arthur silently motioned over his head for the men to gather ‘round. He got off his horse and the others followed suit. They came in close and he said softly, “Now is the time to gather the hair. Merlin, your services are needed.”  
  
Merlin pulled out a razor from his saddlebag and motioned to Gwaine, who stepped forward without hesitation this time.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered.   
  
Arthur was a little confused until he saw the color in Gwaine’s face drain as a red line appeared behind the blade. Merlin clamped his lips shut and wiped the blade along the edge of the vessel he’d brought for the potion.  
  
Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look, which went ignored.  
  
Leon stepped forward, brave as ever, before Merlin had pulled the comb from the bag. Merlin winced before he even put the comb in Leon’s tangled hair. Arthur was sure it would hurt. Tears sprang to Leon’s eyes, but did not fall, as Merlin yanked a small tangle from his head. The only concession the knight made to the pain was to put a hand to the spot, applying pressure to stop the bleeding on the scalp.  
  
Then Arthur realized it was his turn. He felt his eyes widen as he looked at Merlin with disbelief. He wanted to back up, but firmly stood his ground as Merlin approached with the scissors. Arthur knew his bravery had to match that of the other knights and he hardened himself as he felt the cool metal slide over his skin.   
  
He heard the crunch of the scissors as it cut the hair so close to his ear and then “snip”, the tip of the blades bit into the tender flesh of the top of his ear and he had to bite back a yelp as his eyes filled with tears.  
  
Merlin showed no emotion as he scraped the third specimen into the vessel. As if he were made of wood, he turned to Mordred, who smiled, and handed him the small container. Merlin turned back to his supplies, cleaning and putting his instruments away while Mordred moved away from the group to a small fire he’d started.  
  
The hunting party left Mordred alone, watching as he took ingredients of bags and mumbled foreign words over the concoction.   
  
Arthur and Merlin stood a little apart from the other men.  
  
“What the hell is going on, Merlin. You didn’t tell me that blood would be involved in this potion,” Arthur hissed in Merlin’s ear, rubbing at his own.  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Mordred told me that the recipe we had was deficient. He told me that we could only defeat the boar with the blood and hair of the men. He’s been studying with the Druids his whole life. Who am I to gainsay his knowledge. If a little blood will keep the men safe and alive, it is a small price to pay.”  
  
Arthur tried to figure out a counter argument to Merlin’s words, but found himself stuck. He just stood next to Merlin as they both watched the proceedings.  
  
Mordred didn’t take long. A few words, a small innocuous puff of smoke, and turned around to present Arthur with the potion.  
  
“Sire, here is the promised potion.”  
  
Smiling, Mordred handed him a phial with a small amount of clear liquid.  
  
“Protect this with your life for you will not vanquish the boar otherwise.”  
  
Solemnly, Arthur received the potion and tucked it in the pouch at his waist. A loud cheer arose from the men and, as one, they leapt back on their horses, keen for the hunt.


	7. Chapter 6

Arthur and Merlin lead the charge for Merlin had an uncanny knack of knowing where magical beasts where. Arthur had never understood it, but he was happy to take advantage of it, now more than ever.  
  
They raced through the forest knowing that the sands of time were running quickly through the glass. Excitement mounted as they discovered more than just trampled vegetation: there were small animals that had been mowed down and plants that had been uprooted. This animal was a terrible scourge, ravaging all the land nearby.   
  
Despite the noise and commotion the hunting party made, Arthur’s keen senses noticed a change. Something subtle. He motioned that he would slow down so they didn’t all pile on top of him.  
  
As they slowed to a near stop, Arthur realized that there were no other animals nearby. No birdsong in the canopy, no squirrels chittering to each other of the dangers below. Even the cicadas were quiet. He thought they must be very close now.  
  
Arthur looked to Merlin who was sitting quietly atop his horse. He looked pointedly at his manservant who gazed back, unfazed. Before Arthur had time to think or even to ask Merlin, again, what was going on, the enormous beast thundered by.   
  
It was as if the boar had burst out of the ground, for he seemed to come from nowhere. Again, high with energy, the men yelled out and horses surged forward to take the boar, but he was old, and canny, and not to be taken down in one quick strike.  
  
Arrows flew in vain, bouncing off his magical hide. Spears could not pierce the flesh either.  
  
Arthur yelled out, “The Potion! I need to approach the boar and splash him.”  
  
Merlin gave him a quizzical look and said, “No! You cannot. I insist. It is too dangerous for the king to put himself in mortal danger. I am just a servant. Dispensable. Let me.”  
  
Arthur was so shocked to have Merlin acting normally that he took out the potion. Both men were used to riding next to each other; they were already riding in synch. It was just a matter of getting close enough before Merlin had the potion.  
  
As Merlin edged his way to the front, Arthur noticed Mordred shadowing him. Again, something tugged at him, but he was uncertain and held his tongue. Besides, what harm could Mordred do? Surely it was advantageous to have the magic user near Merlin and in a better position to attack the boar or protect Merlin should the need arise.  
  
But what happened next was not what Arthur could have predicted. Mordred gained on Merlin and grabbed the potion from him and then raced up to the boar. He pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and then hurtled off the horse and onto the magical beast.  
  
The whole party raced on, desperate to know what would happen and unable to help Mordred in any way. Throwing spears or shooting arrows had just become too dangerous for fear they might wound the young druid. They watched, ready for the moment when they could overcome the monster.  
  
But that moment never came because although Mordred had clearly doused the animal with the potion, it enraged the beast and he flipped Mordred off his back and then gored him with an enormous serrated tusk before running away.  
  
Brave men all, they shrank back from the sight, knowing the wound was fatal. Except Mordred’s eyes flared gold and they watched, captivated, as Merlin came forward and laid his hands on Mordred’s side and _healed_ him with gold in his own eyes and a few words of magic.


	8. Chapter 7

Merlin fell back, exhausted.  
  
Stunned at Merlin’s use of magic, the knights fell back, talking amongst themselves and looking to Arthur, but the king was standing, stupified.  
  
Arthur’s mind refused to process what he’d just seen. Merlin, his idiot manservant, his beloved, had just _healed_ someone. Before Arthur had a chance to accost him, Merlin rose.  
  
“Sire, now is not the time to explain. Later. Now, we need to chase the beast to a lake I know of that is nearby. Once he is submerged, he will not bother anyone again.”  
  
Still in shock, Arthur watched as Merlin mounted his horse and took the lead again.  
  
“Avant,” the magician cried, and Arthur mounted, signaling to the men to follow, which they did with alacrity.  
  
They found the boar quickly. He had left a fresh trail of broken branches and was easily found and just as easily roused. They chased him through the dense forest in a circuitous route, trying to tire him and control his path, until they were able to force him to the edge of the woods where trees met water. He had a seemingly endless supply of energy; even as the horses began to tire, he was showing no signs and so with a great splash he entered the water, unable to veer from the course.  
  
As bubbles rose where the beast sank, Arthur could have sworn he saw a woman’s face just under the surface of the water, but he dismissed it as an hallucination brought on by exhaustion.  
  
The knights crowed with the excitement of their success. The beast was dead! They clapped each other on the shoulders with great smiles on their faces.  
  
Arthur looked around and realized that Elyan was now conscious, to his great relief, and that Mordred was now gone.  
  
“Merlin, what happened to Mordred?”  
  
Melrin just gaped at him, stupidly.   
  
“Uh, what do you mean, what happened to him?”  
  
“Well, I don’t see see him anywhere. Where did he go?”  
  
Merlin whipped his head around, squinted his eyes, turned around and finally turned back to Arthur.  
  
“You’re right. He’s not here.”  
  
“Mer-lin, I can see that!”  
  
“Oh, right. You said that.”  
  
Arthur sighed, trying to relieve some of his frustration. “First I find out that you are a sorcerer and then the known sorcerer disappears.”  
  
Arthur grabbed Merlin’s arm firmly, causing him to wince a little. Merlin did not try to flee. He just waited.  
  
“I am not letting go of you until we get home and get this sorted out. Do you understand?,” Arthur said through clenched teeth.  
  
Merlin nodded, not looking at Arthur and not saying anything either.  
  
The company mounted their horses, adrenaline still coursing through their veins. They seemed unaware of Merlin’s silence, still excited by the hunt and the victorious conclusion.  
  
Merlin sat in silence on the way back to camp, continuing to hold his tongue as they gathered the supplies in silence. Arthur noticed that, although Merlin’s back was not bowed and he held himself straight, he looked deflated.  
  
Arthur tried to catch Merlin’s gaze in vain. He felt irritated at Merlin, and himself, truth be told. Why hadn’t Merlin told him? He knew he was partly to blame. His thoughts oscillated wildly back and forth from anger to sadness to acceptance and back to anger. He knew he was going to have a monster of a headache when they got home.  
  
Sure enough, Arthur had not been able to relax and worked himself up by the time they got home. His neck was stiff from holding himself together and his jaw was tight. Pressure crept up the back of his neck and wrapped around the top of his and in front of his eyes. He wanted to peel the top of his skull back to relieve all that pressure.  
  
At the stables, he told the men curtly, “Good hunting today, men. Sleep well. I’ll see you on the training fields first thing in the morning.”  
  
There was some good natured complaining, but none one really minded. They knew there would be a big feast tomorrow evening.  
  
Merlin put the tack up efficiently and joined Arthur who grabbed the man’s wiry arm and marched him to his quarters.


	9. Chapter 8

Once behind closed doors, Merlin slid down the wall and slumped onto the floor, still not looking at Arthur.  
  
Arthur paced back and forth, trying to put into his words all of his feelings before he exploded.  
  
“What is the meaning of this, Merlin? How could you, of all people, betray me like this? I trusted you, more than anyone, I trusted you.”  
  
Arthur squatted on the floor and grabbed Merlin’s limp arms, forcing the man’s head up. His damned eyes were closed.  
  
Arthur hissed, “Merlin, open your eyes. Look. At. Me.”  
  
Merlin opened his eyes. Bright blue, drowning in tears, looked back at Arthur. The tears overflowed down Merlin’s cheeks. Merlin snuffled and swiped at his nose with the back of his blue sleeve.  
  
“Merlin. I thought you were my friend. My best friend.” Arthur’s voice cracked and he slumped on the floor, too tired and distraught to care any more. He was truly alone.  
  
“Arthur?” The voice came, hesitant and little scratchy.  
  
Arthur turned to look. Merlin was sitting up now, still supported by the wall, but not slumped any more.  
  
“Arthur, I never meant to hurt you. Never.”  
  
Merlin pressed his hands against the wall, pushing himself up. He walked over to Arthur.  
  
Arthur thought his heart had never felt so heavy, even when he’d discovered that Agravaine had been working against him with Morgana. Merlin had been his one constant all these years. He thought he’d known Merlin.  
  
Arthur shrugged, raising his palms upwards, trying to choke back the tears that were threatening to come. He looked up at Merlin.  
  
“I thought I knew you, but you _lied_ to me. Not just once. Not just for a week, or a month. But for years. How? How could you do that to me? I protected you. Bloody hell. I even loved you. You were my best friend.”  
  
Arthur pushed himself up and closed the distance between them, standing a hair’s breadth away from the stranger in front of him.  
  
“Everything has changed. Everything.”  
  
“No,” Merlin said desperately. “No! Nothing has changed. Well, now you know,” he stammered, “I can do magic.”   
  
Merlin grabbed Arthur’s collar, “But I swear to you, nothing has changed. I’ve saved your stupid life a thousand times over because _you_ are _my_ destiny. I did not run when Mordred disappeared because I cannot imagine life without you.”  
  
Arthur wanted to believe him. Wanted to give in to the impulse to fold his arms around his lover and meld their flesh together. But he was also his father’s son and his father had told him that sorcerers were always evil.  
  
Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to sort out Merlin from “evil sorcerer.” Those two ideas just did not belong in the same sentence. Arthur felt Merlin’s cool fingers slide up his cheeks and rest there. He opened his eyes, looking straight into those bright blue eyes.  
  
“Arthur. Trust yourself. I have always trusted you. You know what is right. Search inside yourself. Believe me, it has hurt me that I have had to keep this secret from you for years, but I am not sad that you know now. Now you know who I really am. If you feel you must reject me, I will leave. But I have always only ever wanted the best for you. I think you know that.”  
  
Arthur leaned his forehead against Merlin’s, as if he could press their minds together to see what Merlin was thinking. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the press of Merlin’s fingers.  
  
Damn it. Those fingers. The touch of Merlin’s skin on his own just felt too right. He was king now. He might be his father’s son, but he was _not_ his father. Hadn’t he given all druids protection? He wanted everyone in his realm to be safe. Wasn’t Merlin a part of “everyone”?  
  
Arthur wrapped Merlin’s fingers in his own and looked at Merlin. His heart eased and began to expand as he looked at him.  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur said softly. “I do know that you have only ever wanted the best for me. I do know that. But you have to know how incredibly hurt I am that you’ve kept this secret from me for years. I trust, that over time, this will heal, but I want there to never be any secrets between us again. Can you do that?”  
  
Merlin nodded slowly, maybe even a little jerkily, but Arthur dismissed that as he pressed his lips to Merlin’s, tears streaming down his cheeks, mingling with those on Merlin’s cheeks, washing away some of the hurt.


	10. Epilogue

“I’m going to be at your side, like I always am, protecting you.”  
  
Merlin felt confident that he would be able to protect Arthur on the battlefield, the way he always had, since they’d met.  
  
"I'm glad you're here, Merlin."   
  
Arthur looked into his partner's eyes solemnly and with a great deal of affection.   
  
As they rode out, onto the field, Merlin felt his heart soar. With the realm's finest behind them, Merlin, the most powerful sorcerer, and Arthur, the best warrior, this battle was practically a formality.  
  
A lone bugle cried, breaking the silence, and forces clashed with a flurry of motion and sound. Spears and arrows flew, swords clanged, soldiers grappled in close quarters and pounded on each other maces. The armies seemed evenly matched as the day passed and more and more men fell.  
  
Merlin stayed by Arthur's side, protecting him, searching for attacks, both mundane and magical. All day the sun shone down on their heads and they moved as one, long years of practice aiding their actions. It seemed that men would come at them in waves eternally.   
  
Then, one solitary man, robed in black, stood out from the masses. He appeared to stand above the soldiers and Merlin felt his heart stop for he knew this was Mordred. He had not counted on him being here.  
  
First his heart faltered and then his courage. He knew, in that moment, that Mordred would win. He knew he could not resist him; he had never been able to resist Mordred.  
  
"My king, my liege," Merlin cried out. "Forgive me!"  
  
"You have done nothing wrong, Merlin." Arthur looked confused.  
  
And then Mordred appeared in front of them as if by magic, and maybe magic had brought him here.  
  
"So, you forgave Merlin for his treachery, all those years ago. Well, victory is mine. It matters not."  
  
Arthur gaped at Mordred.  
  
"Do you remember the last time we met? Do you remember that Merlin healed me?"  
  
"Yes, of course. How could I ever forget that moment?"  
  
Mordred looked at Merlin and Merlin felt himself turn to ash.  
  
"Merlin did not heal me entirely of his own free will," Mordred sneered. "I fell in love with you, Arthur, when you rescued me in Camelot, but you didn’t even notice me. Then, Merlin and I met again and he did not help me then. I have spent my life crafting how best to ruin your lives. I failed when you hunted the beast. You not only reconciled, but your relationship grew even stronger. I may not be as powerful as Merlin, but I can influence him which makes me more powerful because he must obey my call. I will have my revenge."  
  
Merlin felt Arthur go completely still next to him. Time slowed and all Merlin noticed was Arthur: Arthur's heartbeat; Arthur's breath; the smell of terror rising off him in waves.  
  
In the next moment, time rushed passed again and Merlin felt the order in his mind, "Kill Arthur."  
  
Merlin bowed to the ground, bent himself over, trying to resist the compulsion. It was his destiny to _save_ Arthur, not kill him. Surely this little fuck could not undo the years he had put into saving Arthur in this stupid moment.  
  
Merlin gasped. "No. I will not kill him. You cannot make me do that. You forced my hand to save you, and I did, against advice I had gotten, but you cannot make me kill my king."  
  
Mordred smiled thinly. "Ah, but I can. You see, what you do not know is that I can pull power from life sources. I used Elyan all those years ago and today,” Mordred gestured around himself, “all these men on the battlefield are serving me. I will have my revenge and one way or another, the king will fall at your hand."  
  
Arthur looked around wildly, trying to figure out what was going on.  
  
Merlin's muscles strained and sweat poured down his face with the effort to resist Mordred.  
  
He turned to Arthur, tears staining his face. "I love you, my Lord." He sank his blade, his special blade that Arthur had given him and helped him train so he could defend himself, he sank that blade into Arthur's heart, tears flowing freely as Arthur's life drained away.  
  
Then he whirled and whispered ancient words that sucked Mordred's soul away as he sunk that same blade into Mordred's heart.  
  
The blade fell from Merlin's hand as he staggered away retching. He knew that no one would absolve him now. Heartbroken and mad with grief, he fled the battlefield not knowing or caring what would happen to him next.


End file.
